The Captain
by Lipush
Summary: A song-fic based on the tragic events of "Shabbat Shalom" and "Shiv'aa".
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Captain

**Disclaimer**: If I owned NCIS, there would have been MANY things done differently. Sadly, I don't own Ziva.

**Rating**: Ahh, nothing major, light T, I believe.

**A/N**: So, Who besides me felt in need of closure after the heartbreak that was "Shabbat Shalom"? That was such a sad, SAD, episode. Seeing the promo of "Shiva", things are going to get much more interesting, and it's just MID-SEASON! Ah. Anyway, this is my first fanfic, and It is going to be about Ziva, her thoughts and feelings, after the death of her father. A One-shot Song-fic, actually, unless I feel the need to continue. I Love feedbacks! So please R&R!

**The Captain**

The earth like stood still, when Ziva ran back into the house, her heartbeat fast and fearful. Her glance crossed Tony's, seeing nothing but empathy and sorrow in his eyes.

His expression admitted what she, herself, refused to believe, "No…" she whispered in protest, turning to her left. There, in the dark corner, her father's body lay, like an old rug after years of good use. Eli David's lifeless body sat there, half leaning on the wall, half on the floor. In his death, like in life, he stayed in the dark shadow, unnoticed.

Ziva felt an explosion inside, her face twisted in shock and anguish, when seeing her father's form on the wooden floor. "Abba!" a dreadful scream followed, when she kneeled on the floor next to him, taking him into her arms, "Abba…" she burst out crying, holding him close to her chest, weeping pitifully. Any previous anger disappeared as if never being there, replaced by loss, despair, and unbearable pain.

She didn't notice Gibbs and McGee entering the house, or Tony silently asking "Who did this?" her world shrunk to the feeling of shock and grief, and she found herself praying to the creator, whose glance upon her was so rare, "…Among the righteous" she mumbled in tears, rocking his body back and forth, like singing a lullaby to a precious child, as if a miracle might happen, and he'll open his eyes and talk to her, "May God have mercy on you, oh, Abba!" her silent prayer filling the darkness, as her team left the room.

Difficult hours and days will follow Ziva David; Both her father's death to deal with, and the pain of Mrs. Vance demise. Ziva will have to answer many questions, not just to the investigation team, and not just to herself, for how she could ever look at the mirror again, knowing her father died thinking she hated him, refusing to accept or forgive him, again, turning her back on him, and on herself in the meantime?

No, she never hated him. He was her father, all mighty and powerful, nothing was out of his reach, or so she used to believe as a small child. No, not only to herself she would have respond to, but to her people as well. She won't be the only one looking for retribution, surely others will wish for that, as well. While she lost a father, the last piece of her blood-family, there were many Jewish families in Israel which depended upon the justice, the twisted one at times, but justice nonetheless, of her father as a person, and The Mossad as a whole. But they could never understand the misery and wrath she was feeling at the moment, and the passing hours.

O captain! my captain!

Our fearful trip is done

The ship has weathered every rack

The prize we sought is won

The port is near

The bells I hear

The people all exulting

While follow eyes the stead keel

The vessel grim and daring

She will hold onto her father's corpse for long minutes, until finally, he'll be taken out of her arms, before she will have the chance to complete the prayer of "El Male Rachamim", one last time. The team will look after her, so she won't have to go through the 'Siv'aa' alone, and she will try explaining she was fine, even though they will all know it's far from being the truth. The anger will boil in her veins, her heart will demand vengeance, call for a punishment for this unforgivable crime, her soul will cry out to bring justice for the team, and although Gibbs will try and block her out, she will insist on taking part in this mission for justice. She will accept the anger; embrace it, because anger could always keep her focused. The most important thing was to stay focused on the mission, number one rule of being a good Mossad assassin.

She knew it was a matter of hours, if not less, until all of Israel will stand on its feet. Nosey journalists will pounce on the story like starved eagles on a helpless prey; investigators will try and find who is trying to ignite the area again, just weeks after Israel finished an operation which cost innocent people their lives. Justice, like time, is elusive. That's why she had to act quickly.

When asking her what she needs, Ziva will simply answer "Revenge". And like always, he will be there, by her side, because the anger she felt inside was right there, mirrored in his eyes, as well. The same dangerous spark, he also felt that whatever needed to be done HAS to be done, in order to find the guilty ones of the brutal killing in the Shabbat evening.

And Ziva will go with the team, looking for vengeance. For herself, and for director Vance's family, who lost a mother and a loving wife. Her father's image will come up to haunt her, but she will ignore it during the mission. She MUST stay focused.

Only after making sure justice was served, she will allow herself to feel. Also she couldn't even describe herself what she was feeling. The emptiness could not be described. A fresh, burning memory, of her hands being covered with her father's blood, he himself lying on the floor, his eyes haunted, half open-

But O heart! heart! heart of mine!

Oh, the bleeding drops of red!

Where on the deck my captain lies

Fallen cold and dead!

She will testify in the upcoming hours. They will ask the same useless questions, she will repeat the same answers. She will be looked at with suspicion, carefulness, pity, at times; but no emotion will be conveyed from the Israeli agent. And what for? Feelings do no good, here. Will they wake up her father? Will they bring back Mrs. Vance to her grieving family?

"What were you doing in the house"? They asked, again.

"Having a Shabbat dinner," she'll answer simply.

"No security"?

"That will be correct".

"And then what happened"?

Her gaze will turn to her lap, playing quietly with her fingernails, "My father wanted us to have a Shabbat dinner, like we used to; Wanted to find redemption, said now it is finally time…"

"No one in the Israeli security offices knew he was here"?

"I've already told you 'No', why you keep asking me that"?

"I'm just doing my job, Agent David".

Tongue clucking. Shoulder shrugging.

Indifference.

Her glance will move to the tiny TV-screen on the other side of the room. An Israeli channel. The news has arrived, of course. The reporters looked agitated. An attempt to listen. "Prime minister in an emergency meeting", "A war declaration", "A severe political crisis".

O captain! My father! Hear the bells

For you the flag is flung

For you the bugle trills!

For you bouquets and ribbon wreaths

For you the shores a-crowding

For you they call, the swaying mass

Their eager faces turning

"Ms. David"? Her eyes turned back to the snotty agent.

What was he, again? NCIS? FBI? CIA? The Mossad? She couldn't recall.

Whoever he was, he didn't seem highly intelligent.

"I didn't listen to what he had to say. Didn't want to. I didn't believe him. I left the dinner table. Called Gibbs".

"And what did you guys talk about"?

"I told him about Tyler Wilkes. That was when I heard the shootings".

"What did you do"?

"Ran after the shooter. Gibbs came. We tried to get information out of him, but he took his own life. We came back to house".

"And what did you find there"?

"My father," for the first time she really looked at him, the ice in her eyes sent a cold shiver down his spine, "Dead."

O captain! Dear father!

My arm beneath your head

It is some dream that on the deck

You've fallen cold and dead?

"I sat by his side until they came to take the body", again, she turned to check her nails; "from there they passed him to _Chevra Kaddisha"._

The snotty one seemed to be deep in thoughts. Probably asking himself if he should ask more questions. More open wounds to put salt on.

Stupid fool.

My captain does not answer!

His lips are pale and still…

He won't feel my aching arms

He has no pulse nor will

Finally, after long hours and endless questions, he left. She found herself alone again, solitude blinds her; that until she comes back to the only family left for her. Demanding revenge.

And revenge was finally achieved. Thanks to the president's involvement, a great crisis is prevented, one which could have been the cause of war between Israel and Iran. By her wish, Eli David's funeral is done in privacy, before flying his body back home, and burying him in Jerusalem, like he wished.

The ceremony in Israel will be done in-front of thousands; he will be put to rest like a son of royalty.

It couldn't have been done in any other way.

And after all that, finding the culprits, her anger will pass eventually. She will stay at Tony's place for a few days, and surprisingly (or not) he will treat her as if she was a fragile object which requires a very gentle care. Although saying nothing out in the open, she will be very grateful for his loving care; for being there for her, holding her, embracing her pain.

Gibbs, a man she saw always as a loving father, for long years, will treat her as a daughter and be more loving than before. This pain will make her stronger, and Gibbs will always stay, to help her.

Vance will leave his job. The loss of his wife will hit him hard, and he will stay a full-time-father for his children. He won't look for the guilty ones. So much tenderness and love he had for his children, he would fully give himself to them. Ziva felt jealous of him. He has a family left to embrace and to hold in time of grief. She didn't have that luxury.

The pain, indeed, will make her stronger, but it will always be there. Days will pass, spring will come again, with it a new season of blossom, but that open wound will always stay with her. She just hoped that wherever he was now, he knows how much she loved him. How much the little girl inside of her, the one whose giggles were heard in the backyard when she played tag with Ari and Tali, how much that small girl misses her daddy, the hero, all powerful, strong father. And how much that girl is now part of the same people who found themselves suddenly as a flock without shepherd.

The ship is anchored safe and sound...

Its voyage closed and done

From fearful trip the victor ship

Comes in with object won

The wind will stroke her face on a sunny spring day. Ziva will be reminded that even when family loss, she still has one- her team. She IS Ziva David. Next to her table, McGee and Tony will reopen the "surprise box" (Oh, how long has it been since she last seen it?) And will find the last adventures inside. She will find herself smiling.

On her table, next to the tiny flag her father gave her, there, his framed picture is, too. She will look at it sometimes, in a bitter-sweet memory. As expected, she will accept what happened, even if it takes some time. That night will come back in dreams, no longer in nightmares, but an event which helped her develop herself more in the process.

Exult, O abores! And ring, O bells!

But I, with painful tread,

Walk the spot my father lies

My captain, cold and dead

Tony will turn around, and his lips will turn in a light, playful smile. One meant only for her.

Rule Nu#12 has been broken some time ago. Gibbs was not too happy about it, but as long as they could stay professional, he was willing to cut them some slack. Ziva felt happy about the direction in which her life turned, lately. She was truly happy.

She will be reminded of her father's words, when seeing the picture of her, in a colorful shirt, and pillow-pregnant belly, the undercover mission. "This is what retirement should look like", he said. With a new smile, her hand will find its way to her still flat stomach, to the secret Tony himself doesn't even know yet. Her glance will turn again to Tony and McGee, who've found a new subject to argue about. Until Gibbs will show up, calling them to grab their gear.

O captain! my captain!

Our fearful trip is done

The ship has weathered every rack

The prize we sought is won


	2. Chapter 2

This will be the second oneshot, and my own personal view of the ending of "Shiv'aa".

_**Shake yourself free**_

Ziva's emotions suddenly kicked in and she found herself in Tony's arms.

He held onto her just as tight- "At lo levad" he whispered in her ear.

Smiling, she let go and turned to leave, "I know" she answered, grateful for his constant support.

His gaze followed her as she joined Shmiel into the privet jet, "Are you ready to go home"? He kindly asked. Ziva's sad smile said more than words, "Yes," she answered quietly.

15 minutes later they finally took off.

Shmeil fell asleep at some point and woke up when the shore of Cyprus came to view, dawn covering the horizon. Ziva was wide awake still, she was since leaving Washington.

She couldn't bring herself to have a few minutes of rest. Every time she closed her eyes, images will come up in her mind. Of her father's body. Ilan's betrayal. Of Whatever is waiting for her in Israel.

She knew now that the NCIS was the only family left for her, and she will cherish this family, which embraced her for more than 6 years, at times of joy and sorrow.

Tony was right. She wasn't alone. She had *them*. She knew she COULD move on, if only she could let go of the past, of the anger, of the wish to see Ilan being punished for what he did.

A warm hand holding hers, cut her line of thought, and she found Shmeil smiling slightly at her, "It's going to be ok, Ziva" he said, "Nattalia and I are always here for you".

A spark appeared in Ziva's eyes, "You told Aunt Nettie we're on our way"?

"Of course".

Ziva was truly grateful for Shmeil being there, and knowing her aunt was going to be waiting for her in Tel Aviv when they arrive cheered her up a little bit.

She leaned back into her seat, "We're almost there".

Security services waited for them in Tel Aviv, just as expected. Situation was too delicate, too dangerous, for Ziva to be seen on Israeli soil unprotected.

And as expected, Ilan Bodner disappeared. Never came back to Tel Aviv, or heard from in the last 48 hours. No credit card usage, no phone calls, nothing. He just vanished.

She knew though, that the Mossad is after him, tracking him down. They see betrayal as the worst crime possible. Especially if it's one of their own responsible for it.

The funeral was to be taking place the morning after her arrival. Not surprisingly, the death of Eli David was the topic of the day. Better say, the week.

The main streets of Tel Aviv were blocked this Sunday afternoon, traffic changes on the way to Jerusalem, as military, government and security vehicles accompanied David's body to mount Herzl.

In one of the government's cars, Ziva and Aunt Nettie set quietly. Yesterday evening, when seeing her beloved aunt, Ziva was ecstatic, very emotional, but now she held back any emotion, not wishing to talk about was is to take place less than an hour from now.

"Ziva'le, you know you can talk to me," Nettie said suddenly.

"Uhmm?" Ziva's gaze left the window, turning to look at her aunt, "Yes, of course, I'm fine".

The old lady's eyes told she was unconvinced, but decided not to push. Her Ziva has been through a lot, she could hardly know her, haven't seen her in years, she's been through so much. She trusted her niece to know she will be there for her, always. Whenever she decided to open up, she will be there to hold her and to give her a strong shoulder to cry on.

It took another 40 minutes for them to arrive at the cemetery. Ziva already knew the procedure, and was not at all surprised when journalists began blocking the convoy leading to the national burial site. When leaving the car, both women found themselves shaking hands with ministers, people who said they knew Eli for years even though Ziva has never seen them before, and the Prime minister himself asked to pass his condolences.

The funeral was to be done in private, but was to be filmed live for all to see.

Burying her father was a lot harder than she previously thought. She found herself being struck by a sudden wave of grief and despair, when seeing the casket being covered with the flag, minutes before being put forever in the ground, allowing her father his eternal rest. Feeling her losing balance suddenly, Nettie held onto Ziva tightly, caressing her hair and brushing away tears that escaped before she could help it.

She could hear the _Chevra Kaddisha _man speaks in the background, though her attention was only on the casket, "Aqabia ben Mahalal says: 'reflect upon three things and thou shall not fall into the cluches of transgression. Know from whence you come, wither you are going, and before whom you're going to give a full account of yourself…"

Yes, her father was a true complicated being, an enigma, and in his departure he left her more questions than answers, about life, and about family. Looking around, she knew it was her home, most of her life she saw it this way, but she no longer recognized it as such. Her true home was with the NCIS, her team, and when seeing all of those faces, her true need was to finally find some closure. Allowing herself to grieve, so she could finally move on…

"…And before whom you're going to give a full account of yourself? Before the king of kings, The Holy one, blessed be he…"

The sun was up in the sky, and the grass was green around Ziva. Irony at its best, Ziva thought, that the day seems so cheerful while in her heart there was so much darkness.

"Ziva, Teta'le, it is time"… Nettie whispered, passing her a pocket knife.

Nodding melancholically, she took the knife in her right hand, pulling it close to her neck. With a sharp movement, she tore apart the shirt's collar, and then wordlessly handed it back to her aunt. She could hear the Rabbi murmuring quietly the prayer of "El Male Rachamim", though she herself felt suddenly like a robot. Breath, look, stand…

"From dust we came, and to dust we shall return", the Rabbi called, "Blessed forever is the name of the Holy one! _HaShem natan, HaShem lakakh, yehi shem HaShem mevorakh_!"

For long hours before flying back to Israel, the night after Eli's death, she would wonder about where she goes from here. After so many open, and then closed, wounds, she might have told herself that she could do just fine on her own. She was done crying, done grieving, because it was simply useless. Being left alone so many times, after Tali, after Ari, she felt like the need for family changed for her.

She was a survivor, after all, wasn't she?

But no, not really. Now being completely alone, no immediate blood family left, the loneliness was almost unbearable. She could always trust aunt Nettie to be there for her, but the pain is something which she'll have to deal with alone, at the end of the day. She will, but it will take some time.

"_Yidgadal veyitkadash shmei Rabba_!" The Rabbi's call for _Kaddish_ was loud as a thunder.

"Amen" Ziva answered along with the crowd of mourners.

"In the world which He created according to His will, May He establish His kingdom! and may His salvation blossom and His Messiah be near!"

And while Ilan may be on the run now, it is only a matter of time until he's found. When that happens, she will make sure to be there to watch how justice demands its return.

"Blessed!"

After Tali was killed, she first discovered the thirst for vengeance, the same that she felt yesterday. After that same thirst has been satiated, she discovered it was all for nothing, for her sister could not ever come back, and the emptiness could never be filled. She should have known better yesterday, too…

"And praised!"

But she guessed that was easier than simply letting herself surrender to the waves of pain. It was easier to become angry than to admit to all how broken she really was. Anger, in itself, was much easier. But she understood now that for her own sake, she NEEDS to be able to feel, to cry, to mourn, for ALL that she'd lost, all that life took away.

"And glorified! And exalted! And extolled!"

This time, though, when finally LETTING herself go, she found a different surrounding. Warm arms holding her. Friendship. Support. It felt nice, to have those...

"And honoured! And adored! And lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He!"

She will find her closure, she knew that. Looking back at Nettie, who held onto her still, her tears visible, she wished to tell her that she DID know things will be ok again. It will not happen today, or tomorrow, or the day after, but it WILL happen. But Ziva kept quiet. No words were needed now.

"May He who makes peace in His high places, grant peace upon us, and upon all of Israel! And now say…"

"Amen." Ziva whispered.

Ziva always liked olives.

Green or black, in any shape, she liked them. She remembered as a child, running alone an open field, picking out olives in a small basket.

Today she was alone. But it was fine with her.

Earlier this morning, she found some inner peace in the Western wall. Only twice being there, she let herself relax, knowing that there she was simply one more of the women asking for God's guidance. No cameras following her this time. No journalists.

She planted a small tree in the ground, and then simply sat there, alone in her thoughts. It was soothing. Peaceful.

Soon it would be time to go back home. Her new home, the one that _felt_ like a true home, more than any place ever did.

Putting in her Ipod's earbuds, she let herself relax to the quiet song-

"Arise! Leave from the midst of the turmoil;

Long enough have you sat in the valley of tears…

Shake yourself free, rise from the dust

Dress in your garments of splendor…"

When the blanket of darkness began to cover the skies above, she finally rose from the ground.

Smiling a sad smile she turned her back on her small tree, the precious land that held it, and most importantly, her past.

Yes, it was indeed time to go home.

"Rest in peace, Abba".

A/N- Song mentioned is a Hebrew poem called "Lecha Dodi", sung on _Shabbat evening._

Yes, "At lo levad" CERTENLY means "You're not alone". To all who've hoped for an "I love you"? Bummer.

The song called "The Captain" was written originally by Walt Whitman in 1865, in memory of American president Abraham Lincoln. In its Hebrew version, it was translated by national poet Ne'omi Shemer, dedicated to Former Prime minister Yitzchak Rabin, killed by gunshots on November 1995.

"_ HaShem natan, HaShem lakakh, yehi shem HaShem mevorakh" _is the Hebrew translation of Job 1:21- " The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."

The mentioning of Ziva tearing apart her collar is part of the Jewish mourning rituals. The tearing of the shirt's collar symbolizes the grief and "hole" in ones soul, due to the death of a first degree relative. In Judaism, it shows others that the person in front of you is mourning, and the one at grief doesn't change the shirt for the seven days of "Shiv'aa".


End file.
